A Dvořák, Op 101 No 7: Humoresque
by luna nuova
Summary: Kazuha was on a thrilling mission. Target: Exam questions. Venue: School’s Staff Office. Time: Midnight. Unforeseen: Incredulous encounter with a fellow thief… guess who. HxK AU
1. Prelude

_**Prelude**_

♪♪♪

The Osaka Private Hospital was one of the most renowned in Japan. It was equipped with the latest medical facilities and, as a rule, employed only the highly qualified and knowledgeable doctors.

'Does it still hurt here?' asked the young doctor.

'Ahhh...yes, duh! Ouch, _ouch_—It's painful!' The patient twisted his facial features and howled as though he was experiencing an exceedingly mind-numbing pain.

'Stop screaming like a girl.' The doctor grinned, as he found it impossible to make his order a stern one, and stopped pinching around.

'Forgive me, Doc—I'm melodramatic by nature.'

'Right. Anyway, don't carry anything heavy for a week or so. And don't smoke so much, dude.'

'How dare you accuse me of smoking when you clearly have no evidence of—'

'For your kind information, your teeth bear the same shade of colour as mucus; you smell of Marlboro; there are cigarette soot stains on your pants—'

'Oh, fine. _Fine_. What has smoking got to do with straining my muscles?'

'I have no objections, actually. But in all honesty, I don't want to hear your screams in a cancer treatment room some other day,' the doctor paused, then added, 'Actually, I just don't want to hear you scream. Period.'

The doctor's words caused another round of exaggerate complaints from his melodramatic-by-nature patient who tried to emphasize his point with amplified shakes of his head and hand gestures.

The nurses giggled at this. One of them clasped her hands together and whispered, 'Doctor Hattori is so straightforward—it's_charming_!'

'Could you call the next patient for me, please?' The young doctor gave the nurses a polite smile.

'Oh, yes, of course, Doctor Hattori.' The nurse was positively thrilled to have Hattori Heiji talk to her for the fourteenth time in one day, even though the words he spoke were more or less the same.

Perhaps it was because he didn't scowl and say a crisp, 'Next!' to the nurse without sparing her a glance when he wanted to have the next patient called in, like some other doctors did. It may also be due to the rugged smile—although it was only a slight tug of his mouth—that made the hearts of nurses, young and old, flutter and float around all day after seeing the smile just once. If one were to be more precise in analyzing the reasons that the nurses around him seemed to be in a constant state of ecstasy, it could be narrowed down to a sole root cause—his mere presence.

Hattori Heiji, a high school student, was the exception in the rule of the Osaka Private Hospital. He had not acquired a license in medicine, but his uncanny ability in deducing the cause of an illness and effectively treating it was very well recognized by the hospital's faculty. Besides, who would mind having an exceedingly yummy eye candy with a great sense of humor sauntering around in the hospital?

But of course, swaggering around and oozing charm to the female staff and patients in the hospital was not the only thing that he did. He was there to heal patients.

♪♪♪

An alarm to the tune of '_Nanatsu no Umi wo Wataru Kaze no you ni'__(Like a Wind Crossing the Seven Seas)_ rang. A slender arm poked out from the underside of a pillow and stretched out, exploring the corner around the bedpost, searching for the source of the alarm. When the fingertips came in contact with the alarm clock, they clenched into a fist and smacked the poor electronic device, knocking out its breath and shutting off the melody. No doubt, she loved the song—it was the ending theme of_ Jolly Roger in the Deep Azure_, the eleventh movie of _Detective Conan, _by_ Rina Aiuchi & U-ka Saegusa_, but it intruded her dream and awoke her sooner than she wanted.

After a few minutes of silence, Toyama Kazuha yawned and lifted her quilt. Turning her head on her pillow, her eyes fell onto the framed photograph on her bedside table.

There were two kids who looked to be four, five years old. The little boy was in a midnight blue _yukata_; he managed to look gentlemanly even though he had an impish smile. The girl wore a peach _kimono_ and had a matching ribbon that kept her hair up; her toothy smile, the mischievous sparkle in her eyes, and the strawberry ice cream stain on her _kimono_ that she tried to hide with her hand spoke volumes about her personality—easygoing, frank, and naughty.

With an audible sigh, Kazuha did an inelegant stretch and forced herself to get out of bed. Going to school was not an entirely enjoyable thought, but she had planned something she could look forward to.

♪♪♪


	2. Movement I: Meet

_**Movement I**_

♪♪♪

Silver rays of moonlight cast the school buildings in pale illumination and created unearthly shadows in corners blocked from the light. The vehement hiss of the wind and coarse rustle of the leaves only made the horror-movie-scene-in-the-making more complete. It would have been a spine chilling experience to walk into a place like this at midnight if not for the adrenaline running through Kazuha's veins.

She crept her way to the staff office and flashed a teacher's ID card at the security device next to the door. It was not her fault that some teacher dropped his ID card and failed to realize it. Then she made an attempt at twisting the doorknob with her gloved hand. It did not open, just as she expected. The door was usually unlocked during the day and flashing the staff ID would suffice. But this was midnight. Even though the security system was still on, the door was locked as a precaution. A rather flimsy precaution, thought Kazuha.

She fished out a black cotton fabric from her bag and unrolled it, revealing a variety of pins slotted into a row of tiny pockets. She squinted at the hole in the unusual doorknob, taking a couple of seconds to determine its size and pattern, and ran her index finger through the row of pins, finally selecting the most suitable one. She picked her way through the keyhole until she heard an almost inaudible click.

Kazuha had succeeded at first try, which made her grin in immense satisfaction. She kept the fabric full of pins, scooped out her torchlight from her pocket, and opened the door cautiously and quietly. Slipping into the gap, she closed the door and placed her bag on the floor.

Turning on the torchlight, Kazuha scanned the office to locate the right desk. She needed to find the PC that contained highly classified data—the exam questions. Sofa, coffee table, newspaper stand, dustbin, water cooler, refrigerator, eyes, shelves, potted flowers…

_Eyes?!_

Kazuha froze. A wave of panic threatened to knock her knees together.

Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod. I know I'm being a bad student to steal exam questions, but please, please, please don't let me bump into a ghost in the middle of the night. I swear I'll repent after my thoughtless act—actually, it was pretty much planned but—I will never _ever_ do this again. Unless I _really_ need to. Please.

Her heart thundered in her ribs and her feet went cold. She reversed the direction of her torchlight and relocated the pair of eyes that glinted at her. Her torchlight slipped from her shaky fingers with a soft thud on the rug in front of the sofa.

For as long as Kazuha could remember, she was not afraid to face anything—but apparently, the 'anything' excluded supernatural beings such as ghosts.

'Pretend I wasn't here!' Kazuha shifted her legs and backed away from the pair of unmoving eyes. In one swift movement, she slung her bag across her shoulder and made a dash for the door.

Suddenly, a large hand grabbed her shirt.

'Hey!' There was low voice behind her.

Kazuha clamped her eyes shut and swallowed, giving an undignified whisper, 'Yes?'

'What are you doing here?' The voice continued asking steadily. The grip on her shirt was firm, having no intention of letting go.

The ghost can speak English? Great, at least the ghost isn't speaking Italian or Arabic, or I wouldn't understand him. But why the hell is a ghost starting a conversation with me? Should I answer him or is it better to make another dash for the door? How come the ghost can hold my shirt? Isn't a ghost supposed to penetrate through everything they try to touch?

'I… I was going to steal the exam questions,' stammered Kazuha, still not willing to pivot and face the owner of the voice.

'Steal exam questions?'

'Err… yeah." Oh no, does the ghost think it is detestable to commit to such dishonesty? Is he going to punish me or something? Like, suck my blood? If he was a vampire from the _Vampire Knight_ manga series, I would die happy! …Argh! I'm so morbid to be entertaining such morose thoughts when a ghost is confronting me right now, plus I don't even know if I'd get out of here alive.

'Why do you have to _steal_ exam questions?' At this, the hand released its hold on Kazuha and switched on the light.

Oh, my. This ghost has got to be a powerful one. I thought ghosts are afraid of brightness… OK, Kazuha. Stop babbling to yourself. Show some courage. It would be so shameful and humiliating to die without even knowing how your murderer looks like.

At this, Kazuha inhaled deeply and spun around.

There was no faceless ghost floating in white clothing splattered with blood, nor was there any fangs peeking from his mouth. What she saw was a tanned face with strong features, particularly that pair of entrancing sea green eyes. She could also feel virility in him, as though he had a lot of pent up energy waiting to be spent—totally different from the lifeless impression she had about ghosts.

'You're not a ghost?' The words came out before she could stop it.

'Of course not!' He sat back into the armchair next to the shelves, gazing at her in mild interest.

'What are you doing here, then?' asked Kazuha. What the hell! He scared me to death and now he's sitting there as though nothing happened!

'Same as you,' he replied.

'You're here to steal exam questions, too?' Kazuha was bewildered. He was not acting like a thief at all. A thief should be stealthy and cautious.

'Wrong,' he smiled faintly. 'I'm here to _take_ the exam questions—not steal. Notice the difference?'

'Take?' What does he mean by _taking_ them? If there was a way to get them without being stealthy, why did I go through all the troubles just to _steal_ the questions? And I haven't even begun to hack into the Head-of-Exam-Department's personal account in his personal computer, which would take quite some time. Is this guy trying to be funny?

'Yep._Take_.' He stretched his long legs and walked towards the huge safe next to the shelves. He opened the safe easily after keying in the password.

'Which year are you?' he asked without lifting his head.

'Second,' replied Kazuha.

'I don't know what subjects you take, but everything is here.' He drew out a stack of bound documents and handed it to Kazuha. 'The teachers are stupid; they can't help it. They keep a spare hardcopy of all exam papers in here in case the softcopy is lost. You can photocopy that pile and return it tomorrow. They'll never know.'

Kazuha accepted the papers, befuddled.

'Are you hungry?' he asked abruptly.

'Uh… a little." Kazuha 's brain cells were still suspended in a state of stupefaction.

Kazuha watched him opening the fridge, taking out a pack of instant pizza, tearing the package open, and sliding the piece of frozen pizza into the microwave. The movements were so smooth that she could not help but wonder if this ridiculously bold thief made a habit of abducting pizza from the staff office.

He turned around and placed his hand on Kazuha's forearm, pulling her to the armchair and pushing her into it. Then, he strode to the safe and dug out a pile of Year Three exam papers before tidying up what was in the safe. The only sound that broke the silence was the 'ding' of the microwave which indicated that the pizza was ready to be eaten.

However bizarre it may sound, Kazuha spent the next fifteen minutes or so sharing a hot pizza with a fellow thief.

The food seemed to have restored the more complexed functions of her brains; Kazuha began to be aware of the absurdity of whatever she had been doing within the past hour in the company of… Christ! She did not even know his name.

Noticing Kazuha's range of expressions that succinctly reflected what she was thinking, he smiled with apparent amusement.

'I'm going off now.' Kazuha scrambled out of the armchair and snatched her bag up, not forgetting to take the stack of exam papers along with her.

'What's your name?' He startled himself when those words came out from him. It was odd and utterly uncharacteristic of him.

Throughout the years of his existence, he never had to ask a girl for her name, since the girls were always more than willing to give him their names, each of them hoping that he would, at the very least, remember her name among the innumerable girls. Either that or they would compose a poetic declaration of love for him and sign their lovely names in their fanciful handwritings on the prettiest sheets of paper they could lay their hands on.

Kazuha was either too eager to get out of the office or ignoring his question. He only chuckled.

'My name's Hattori Heiji,' he said. 'And I'll find out what's yours!'

♪♪♪


	3. Movement II: Stir

_**Movement II**_

♪♪♪

The afternoon breeze smelled of sunflowers, shrouding the school in sweet fragrance. When Hattori Heiji visited the Second Year's Quarters unexpectedly, there was an immediate commotion occurring. The girls' energy levels skyrocketed; countless pairs of eyes—shaped in cute little hearts—beamed up at Heiji.

Exaggeratingly expressive sighs could be heard all along the corridor. There were also a few cases of hyperventilation due to overdose of excitement.

'It's Hattori-senpai!'

'Oooh…Why is Hattori-senpai here? Hand me the mirror, quick! The mirror! My hair's in a mess!'

'Ahhhh! He was looking at me! Did you see that? I swear! Our eyes met for zero point five second! I wasn't imagining it!'

'How can God create such a flawless being? Ruggedly handsome and _awfully_ gorgeous and _attractively unruly_ and, and… Wouldn't God get _jealous_?'

Heiji stepped into a classroom, not in the least affected by those girls swooning over him. His unbuttoned collar and cuffs rolled up to his elbow revealed bronze muscles that made the females squeal in hysteria. And drool. Someone would have a hard time cleaning up the floor later.

This blatant display of extreme devotion—or rather, obsession—from the Year Two students was no longer a surprise. Actually, there was a scientific reason behind this phenomenon. Freshmen were usually more innocent and reserved, seldom going beyond sanity in demonstrating their affection—very different from the sophomores. The senior girls, on the other hand, had more or less matured into sane human beings upon learning the agonizing fact that making superior beings like Kudo Shinichi and Hattori Heiji fall in love with ordinary girls like them was Mission Very Impossible.

'_Oh my god_. Hattori-senpai has come to visit our class. It must be a dream. Please don't wake me up no matter what happens. _Not even_ if there was a terrorist attack.'

When he cleared his throat, the class fell totally, completely and thoroughly silent—a feat no teachers could achieve even after decades of teaching experience.

'I'm here to escort Mouri Ran to the Chairperson of the Student Union Council.'

The excitement level rocketed pronto.

'The Chairperson of Student Union Council? OHMIGOSH… Is he, like, seriously serious?'

'Ran! This has got to be the luckiest day in your entire life. You will be escorted by _the_ Hattori-senpai, who outshines the sun with his smile, to _the_ Kudo-senpai who resides in every girl's wildest dreams…' Suzuki Sonoko rattled on, 'the chance of _this_ happening in a teenage girl's life is—by my accurate calculation—ninety six times less than that of striking a lottery.'

'Sonoko, I don't even _know_ them!' Ran was rather exasperated. What did the Chairperson want to do with her? She was quite certain she did not get into any trouble that would require her to meet someone of such position and authority. Did she injure someone? One of those infuriating guys who made it their business to find out what kind of underwear girls wore under the pleated skirts, perhaps? But they deserved it!

Ran accepted Sonoko's best wishes and walked towards Heiji, still cracking her brains and trying to recall what evil—or partially evil—deeds she had done.

She came up with nothing.

Being the Vice Chairperson of the Student Union Council, Heiji was more than happy to run errands and leave the more brain-damaging tasks and tough responsibilities to Shinichi, the Chairperson. When he saw that Mouri Ran was neither swooning over nor intimidated by his presence, he grinned inwardly—a wry grin. It was the second time in twenty four hours that he met a girl unaffected by his charm or authority. It created a tiny dent in his ego.

Determined to repair the damaged ego, Heiji acted the perfect gentleman effortlessly by opening the door for Ran and bowing slightly, making a sweeping movement with his hand. His behavior made all the girls in the classroom cradle their hearts and sigh with apparent infatuation—except Ran. It made his ego suffer another blow.

He was leading her through the corridor when he caught a glimpse of ribbon the colour of sunshine in another classroom. He grinned. This time, it was his normal grin—full of mischief.

♪♪♪

Kazuha was awoken from her nap by noises that contained a lot of 'Hattori-senpai'; the image of her playing the white, elegant piano was whisked away. It frustrated her.

'_Hattori-senpai, Hattori-senpai_… Stop repeating that name.' Kazuha muttered, knowing that no one would bother to listen even if she yelled at them to quit screaming.

She closed her eyes and buried her head in her arms, attempting to get back into her dream—the one with a grand piano and pleasant melody.

It was a failed attempt; the noise was too loud to bear. The faint voice that droned on behind the noise produced by Hattori's fan girls was unmistakably the professor's. She was quite amazed at his indifference to the behavior of the class. Why doesn't the professor do something? The noise is disturbing my sleep!

'Good morning, professor. I'm sorry to interrupt your lesson. The second person from the right in the fifth row—she's sleeping like a pig.'

All of a sudden, there was silence in the classroom.

Kazuha felt a surge of happiness and relief. Happiness, because someone had the courage and a voice commanding enough to quiet down the class; relief, because she could enter her sweet dream again. She thanked the hero from the bottom of her heart.

Wait, wait, wait a minute! _Fifth row… second person…_ isn't that herself?

Kazuha raised her head, looking for the source of that strong voice. If she was not wrong, it was not a voice that belonged to any of her classmates. Yet it sounded familiar. Then she saw him. Her eyes scanned upwards. Long legs, slim waist, a couple of undone buttons, a glimpse of bronze chest that was drool-inducing, and a face that was traffic-stoppingly sexy.

_Oh, no._ He was the fellow thief she met yesterday night. Her eyes became wide open, her mind no longer groggy from sleep. He was staring at her intently, waiting for her to meet his eyes. He smiled in satisfaction when she did, and waited for the professor to do something about her. Heiji was the second highest authority in the student body, which made all staff and students in school take his words seriously.

'Ms. Toyama Kazuha! Even if you think I'm boring—which I am not—you should still show some respect by staying awake and listening _very_ attentively. What a shame to have Mr. Hattori pointing out your discourteous behavior! I'd like to see you after class,' said the professor sternly.

Heiji grinned after getting her name, just as he planned, and left without a word. He still had to escort Mouri Ran to Kudo Shinichi.

Kazuha gritted her teeth and seethed in silence. He was going to pay, dearly.

♪♪♪


	4. Movement III: Knock

_**Movement III**_

♪♪♪

The pub was enveloped in cigarette smoke and reeked of alcohol. Kazuha had never thought about getting a cigarette, but she liked the taste of those colourful cocktails, not to mention that they were free of charge. She was surrounded by her gang of girls. As long as those girls breathed, they could not stop chatting. Kazuha listened to their gossip half heartedly and swallowed a few gulps of bright orange cocktail. The cocktail did not appeal to her taste buds as they usually did. It must be that Hattori. All he had done so far was to disturb her wonderful life. He could make a successful career out of annoying other people.

'Come on, Kazuha! Still pissed over what happened just now?' asked Nakamori Aoko. The pub was a property of her elder brother, Nakamori Shindo. 'Hattori-senpai is just a little more cool, a tad more good looking, and a bit wilder than ordinary guys. Err… You shouldn't waste your time worrying about him.' Aoko patted Kazuha's back, trying to soothe her anger.

'Hi. What's with the mood here? Does my service lack quality? Feel free to get any drink you want." A light voice joined in the conversation. It belonged to Aoko's elder brother.

It was a known fact that Nakamori Shindo fancied Toyama Kazuha; it was also common knowledge that Toyama Kazuha had no romantic interest towards Nakamori Shindo.

Kazuha took out a pen from the pocket of her coat and fiddled with it. Then she simply stared at the pen rotating in her hand while her mind ventured elsewhere. It was a subconscious action. No one interrupted her; they knew she would only toy with her pen when she needed to drive her thoughts eight hundred miles away.

At that moment, Hattori Heiji was riding on her train of thoughts, though she might not realize it.

♪♪♪

It was a warm, tranquil morning with a sky as blue as the seawater. Until a motorbike sped by and entered the school compound. It was a scene that certain gender of students found hard to ignore.

The vehicle was always parked in perfect alignment with the white markings on the parking ground in the blink of an eye, after which the rider would take off his helmet and reveal his handsome face, get off the vehicle by swinging his legs with a male elegance that came so naturally to him, keep his helmet in smooth movements, and ruffle his hair casually. This routine never failed to catch the eyes of many girls. They seemed to think he could do this series of movements with a style that no other guys could achieve.

Heiji slung his bag over his shoulder and walked toward the block where his class was. When he spotted a familiar someone's back, his eyes narrowed—like those of a predator when it caught sight of its prey—and his lips curved into a smile.

When he reached that someone, he knocked her head not too gently and continued walking without breaking his pace. Then, he counted down mentally.

_Five, four, three, two…_

'HATTORI HEIJI!' Kazuha bellowed.

Heiji placed his elbow on Shinichi's shoulder and walked along with him.

'Na, Hattori. Wasn't that your name I just heard?' Shinichi raised his brow and questioned Heiji.

'I think so.' Heiji nodded nonchalantly and pictured her angry face in his mind.

'And you're going to ignore her?'

'I think so,' Heiji replied in the same tone.

'STOP RIGHT THERE!' Kazuha yelled a second time.

'She sounds a little angry,' Shinichi reminded him—though it was not necessary.

'She's not just _a little angry_—she is mad at me,' Heiji kindly corrected Shinichi's wrong use of terminology.

'Not gentle, is she?'

'Nope, nowhere near gentle,' Heiji reaffirmed without hesitation.

'But you like it.' This time it was not a question.

Heiji merely shrugged and grinned. He knew their fan girls would do a great job by crowding around them and blocking him from Kazuha.

♪♪♪

* * *

Merry X'mas and Happy New Year!! 

Since there hasn't been any negative comments from all of you, dear readers, I'd like to acknowledge my friend J.Y. for her brilliance and tolerance (in putting up with me). Please mention a word of thanks for her in your reviews, if you could. The plot is the result of our joined efforts! I hope you'll enjoy this story as much as you do Rondo Towards Love.

Love, luna nuova.


	5. Movement IV: Race

_**Movement IV**_

♪♪♪

Kazuha wiped her perspiration with her sleeve and dragged a ridiculously huge bag of trash towards the rubbish dump at a remote corner in school.

'Hey there!' A hand clapped her shoulder suddenly, causing her to almost lose her balance.

She swiveled around to see that the hand belonged to a tall figure. A figure that she absolutely abhorred.

'Quit pestering me, you idiot!' Kazuha tried to shrug his hands off as she had to use both hands to drag the trash behind her.

Heiji grinned and stood in front of her, stopping her in her track. He then snaked his left arm by her side and pried her fingers off the garbage bag, pretending not to notice her fierce scowl. His right hand circled around the other side of her to grab the trash from her before walking off with it.

For a moment, Kazuha was baffled by his move. When she noticed that he only needed to use one hand to get the trash to move, she got pissed, however unreasonably.

'It's my trash!' Kazuha chased after him.

He did not slow down. It was as if the trash did not produce any friction with the ground when he was the one doing the dragging. 'You may want to lower your volume. People are looking over here because of your voice.'

'I don't care. Give it back to me, damn it!'

'No.' Heiji began running with the trash.

Kazuha caught up with him and lifted her leg to kick him. She only managed to kick air—hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, etc.

'I don't want your help, Hattori!' Kazuha continued to run after him, attempting to kick him every time she got near, but to no avail. If she did not keep stopping to hit him, she could have caught him easily, considering that he had to carry a heavy bundle.

It was a hilarious situation to all those around them. Why would any two normal, sensible people fight over a trash bag as though it was their most treasured item?

'I'm _throwing_ it!' Heiji turned to give her a bright smile before flinging the trash bag into the rubbish dump.

'Oh my god… Hattori-kun is charming even when he is throwing a bag of trash!' Another group of girls on duty exclaimed, their eyes not leaving Heiji's smile.

'Oh, shut up. What's so damn charming about disposing a heap of rubbish?' Kazuha could not believe her ears. The girls could get really ridiculous sometimes.

Heiji cocked his eyebrow, amusement clearly written on his face. 'You shouldn't blame them for speaking the truth, you know.'

'Go to hell, Hattori.' Kazuha took deep, deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She did not like to be in the spotlight. As everyone's attention started focusing on her, she told herself to pay no heed to Hattori's laughing eyes and walk off without causing a bigger scene.

But it seemed that her fury towards Hattori overrode her disinclination for public attention.

Kazuha shoved Heiji with all her might, trying to knock him off. When it failed to make Heiji lose his balance, she formed tight fists with her hands and aimed it at various parts his body, mainly his chest, where she could reach more conveniently. After a few punches, it was Kazuha's knuckles that felt sore—not his chest.

She raised her eyes, only to see him with an expression that said _you-can't-hurt-me_. It made her livid. Due to a certain dominant gene that coded for _stubbornness_ in her DNA sequence, Kazuha simply had to prove that she could hurt him or die trying.

She proceeded to let his groin area experience an excruciating amount of pain with her knees. But Heiji was faster. His arm encircled her waist and hauled her to him before she could bend her knees. Her fist was caught between them, immobile, while the other was cuffed at her back by his hand.

The crowd that had gathered went bananas. And papayas.

'Oh, _my_. If only I could be entrapped in those strong arms of his for one short moment, I'd be happy the rest of my life. _And_ my next life, if he extended the moment by a minute.'

'Gosh! Hattori-kun is going wild. I loooove that look in his eyes…'

Kazuha, on the other hand, had only one word in her mind right then: _murder_. No, make that two words: _vicious_ _murder_. And she would loooove to carry out what she had in mind.

'I want the trash back!' The notion of murder had apparently jumbled up the more sensible thoughts in her head.

'Now, that's just silly,' Heiji chuckled, and then continued, 'I can apologize, though, if that's what you want.'

_Silly?_

It might sound way better than _stupid_ or _retarded_, but hearing it from Heiji's mouth made the word sound like the worst criticism on earth.

'Of course, my apology comes with a condition.'

Condition? _Condition_, he said? He was going to apologize _with condition_? Who the freak did he think he was, this Hattori the _baka_? Why the bloody hell would she want an apology from him so much that she had to comply with his terms and conditions?

'What the hell do you think—'

'You have to outrun me,' Heiji threw the unexpected at her.

At this, Kazuha smiled a satanic smile. Did he not know that she was the best damned runner in the region with countless, albeit dusty, trophies stacked up somewhere under her bed? It was not a good place to store trophies but, the point is, she did not acquire them from her fairy godmother. It was her capability that won those trophies.

'Deal,' said Kazuha.

'How far?' asked Heiji.

'A quarter mile.' Kazuha answer was well thought out. Her stamina, however good it was, might not measure up to Heiji's if she were to run more than two miles. Therefore she decided to maximize her talent and ability in sprinting short distance.

'Out of the way, everybody! Thank you!' Heiji shouted across the field, effectively clearing the scarlet rubber track of other students.

The other students did not include Kudo Shinichi, who decided that he would gladly start off the race for Heiji and Kazuha. He was clearly interested in knowing what his pal's intention was, and even more curious to witness the outcome of the race.

It would be a close one, thought Shinichi. Too bad Heiji did not know it yet. Despite their strong friendship, he was not about to inform Heiji of Kazuha's strength in running.

Kazuha rotated her ankles and hopped about on the track a few times before getting into starting position, with one knee on the ground and legs ready to spring on the sound of 'Go!'.

The female spectators had already begun cheering for their beloved Hattori the hero, which made Kazuha even more determined to make him lose. Badly.

'Ready, get set, _go_!'

Kazuha shot forward with incredible speed. With her mind concentrated on running and running alone, she could not hear the cheers of the crowd, nor could she sense Heiji sprinting at her side. The only sound she could hear was the rub of her soles against the rubber track and her own breathing. She could feel her pulse accelerating steadily; her breathing, however, was rhythmic. Maintaining her own rhythm and not affected by the surrounding was essential in winning strong opponents. She had trained herself not to let fear, anxiety or any other negative thoughts invade her mind when she was in a race.

As was her habit, she continued running after her last burst of speed and energy towards the finishing line. She came to a stop gradually, adjusting her senses back to the world, with all the noise and people around her. Then she remembered that she was in a race with the infuriating Hattori Heiji.

Kazuha looked around, suddenly noticing that the female spectators were eerily, unusually, exceptionally silent while a number of male spectators whistled and cheered.

Wait a minute. The _girls_ were _silent_?

The realization hit her head like twenty pounds of chocolates and pulled the corners of her lips from ear to ear. Ooh-la-la! Hattori Heiji lost! _I defeated him!_

Her eyes were searching for Heiji when he clapped his hand on her shoulder from behind. The hand slid down her arm and held her right hand in his. She turned to him and let him shake her limp hands, dumbfounded by the grin on his face. Shouldn't he be agitated that a girl practically stomped on his ego in front of half the school population?

Then he turned to walk off. After a few steps, he glanced over his shoulder to say a casual 'Sorry! I shouldn't have taken your trash without permission!'

'You call this an apology?' Kazuha said to his back.

Heiji stopped and looped his thumbs in his pockets, turning around to face Kazuha. 'It's not enough?'

'Of course it isn't!' muttered Kazuha. 'People don't apologize with their noses stuck up in the air and no sincerity—'

'All right then, I'll treat you to dinner tonight. We'll meet in front of the tower after school. See ya.' He walked away with a wave of his hand, leaving an enraged Kazuha behind.

Treating her to dinner? As if.

It was probably just an excuse to leave the embarrassing scene. Recalling her sweet victory, Kazuha decided to forget the matter. She had outrun him in front of many, many fellow schoolmates. That made her content.

♪♪♪


End file.
